


Constancy

by enon



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror work, F/M, Gen, POV Newt Scamander, POV Tina Goldstein, Slow Burn, Wizarding Politics, Wizarding Wars, Workaholic Tina, newtina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9350420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enon/pseuds/enon
Summary: Newt Scamander and Tina Goldstein get thrown together in an international pursuit of Gellert Grindelwald. They attempt to figure out their feelings in the larger backdrop of the wizarding war.





	1. Family

_Late January, 1927_  

 

Tina approached Graves's office with trepidation. When a message arrived on her desk after lunch, telling her to proceed to his office at around 3:00 in the afternoon, she felt a keen sense of deja vu. Her demotion from major investigations to wand permits had started out quite the same way. She mentally scanned what she had done after her reinstatement.

 _Not a toe out of the line_ , she assured herself, as she knocked.

"Come in," a soft voice said, behind the white door.

Percival Graves's imprisonment in a linen closet in his own manor had made him a thinner, warier, and wearier version of the boss Tina had known. However, it had not made him any less intimidating. If anything, Graves frightened people more than ever with his single-mindedness. The issue with Grindelwald had become personal to him. President Picquery, and the rest of the Congress had insisted that he take a three month long leave. He returned after less than one.

"I hear you've been working your ass off on the Grindelwald case," he said, as she sat on the chair opposite to him.

Tina nodded. Along with the usual cases, she had been put on Grindelwald duty. MACUSA had only been able to keep the dark wizard behind bars for two months. Tina was one of those sent in on the first few weeks to interrogate him. The experience was not chilling, as she expected. On the contrary, she felt seduced. 

 _"Is there nothing you would change in this world? Nothing beautiful you see happening when we are revealed? That is all_ I _want."_

The thought of Queenie and Jacob came, unbidden, to mind, but she shook it off. He smiled, as if he could tell.

After that encounter, she hemmed and hawed about increasing security, possibly disabling immediate access to him, but her fellow aurors had dismissed her. Grindelwald was wandless, restrained, and had hundreds of protective charms and hexes around him. What could he possibly accomplish with conversation? 

Three weeks after, the dark wizard quietly disappeared from his cell. The protective charms and hexes in his cell had been deactivated, and his wand, taken out of evidence. A full-scale inquiry of all MACUSA employees was done, after it was concluded that this was most definitely an inside job. A few employees seemed to have disappeared just days before the breakout. Two of them never returned and their families seemed to have disappeared. Picquery was furious.

"President Picquery thought it would be best that someone with experience was involved," she replied.

"I agree," Graves said, waving his hand carelessly, and making a file land in front of her, "so why don't you start briefing me on this?" 

Tina frowned, not liking the idea that Graves be part of anything that would allow him to encounter Grindelwald. She resisted the urge to swallow as she caught Graves staring down the file, as if it was an enemy, and said, "With all due res-"

Graves put up a hand to cut her off, sighing.

"I've heard every possible version of this argument, Tina. It is the only reason why it took months for me to head this investigation. Now," he said, in a tone that brook no objections, "start talking."

She recognized it as the report she submitted a few days ago. Tina had the idea to dig through Grindelwald's past to identify patterns and habits. As a result, she knew everything she possibly could about him. She knew what his marks were in Durmstrang, the distance with which his childhood associate, Albus Dumbledore, treats this entire affair and about his great-aunt in a village called Godric's Hollow. The latter was especially interesting to Tina, in no small part due to the importance she placed on family herself, so she pursued it. In this specific report, she had traced Grindelwald's ancestry and discovered a stray family branch that migrated to the United States. As with most immigrants, they were not well-versed with MACUSA's strict secrecy laws and were not received well. They retreated to a particularly inaccessible part of Indiana.

"They isolated themselves from then on?" Graves asked, reviewing the papers she passed along as she explained.

"There are no records of any of the children attending Ivermorny or any employment since the late 1890s, after the minor breach in our secrecy laws."

"I hardly think the law considers a relationship with a no-maj, minor."

Tina did not comment, but continued discussing her report.

"I thought that it might be worth looking into the property. Grindelwald is evil, and misguided, but he is still human. As such, he will have similar tendencies as the rest of us. He can be predicted, and, as such, defeated."

Graves met her steely gaze and nodded.

"They're not very creative with the name they registered upon immigration," he said, his lip curling, as he read through the file once more.

"I imagine it's the one thing they all have," Tina chuckled.

"Yes. _Fairhead._ ”

  
 ****

 

Tina arrived in the brownstone she shared with Queenie, exhausted after giving a late-night briefing to the other aurors involved in the Grindelwald case. She sat on the table and looked at the portion of the dinner her sister prepared for her. Queenie, golden and lovely even just in her night things, took the seat opposite her, just in time to see her push the plate away.

"You're going to work yourself to death," Queenie said, as she chose rest instead of food, for the umpteenth time.

Tina made a non-committal hum, knowing that Queenie could probably read all the answers she had for that.

"The day after tomorrow, Teenie?" her sister said, leaning forward, looking worried.

With Graves's endorsement, it was decided that the lead was strong enough to warrant immediate action. Picquery signed off on dispatching them once everyone in the team tied up or had someone else cover their other investigations.

"Yes," she answered, feeling the exhaustion more when somebody says it aloud, "and early too."

She stood up and started preparing for bed when it looked like Queenie couldn't do anything but bite her lip and look at the table worriedly. She was already sitting on her bed when her sister appeared at the doorway of their shared room.

"Please be safe," Queenie said, flicking her wand so that a piece of parchment zoom from the bedside table to Tina's lap.

"I will," Tina answered, trying to smile reassuringly.

"I'll pack up your roast so you can eat something other than hotdogs tomorrow."

With that, Queenie was gone, most likely trying to keep herself busy before she got even more upset. Tina knew it was best to leave her alone when she was like this and stayed to open the parchment. _Ms. Tina Goldstein_ was written in a loopy scrawl on top.

 

_Tina,_

_I hope this letter finds you and your sister, well. I am not at all surprised that you have been asked to investigate that case, although I selfishly wish that he has already left American soil. This way, if nothing else, he will not endanger_ _~~you~~_ _any of you._

_The escape seems to have inflamed, rather than discourage, his followers. I have been called more frequently to handle beast-related incidents. I am certain that none of these creatures would have been aggressive without encouragement. I would elaborate, but my brother has given not-very-subtle hints that I should take care not to be explicit in my correspondence._

_I am pleased to say that I have finished majority of my manuscript. Augustus and I will be discussing his revisions (of which, he will have many, I am sure) by next week._

_In the meantime, I am already starting on the final chapter. I had thought to write you to express my excitement, although the book has been taking up less and less of my time._

_I hope to fulfill my promise before the year ends._

 

_Newt Scamander_

Tina allowed herself to feel momentary happiness at having something, hopefully, to look forward to before the year ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first work online. Please be gentle. Not sure about the specifics of the timeline, but this should be a few months after the movie ends.


	2. Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The midwest. Then, Paris.

_May, 1927_

 

If Tina was told that, in a few months, she would be taking a trip to Paris, this was not what she had in mind. 

A born and bred New Yorker, Tina had the typical image of Paris. Twinkling lights, al fresco dining on wiry seats, elegant men and women, artful in their nonchalance, and a magnificent view of the Eiffel tower, wherever you sat. The moment she stepped away from the Portkey and steadied herself, however, all she could think of was how similar it felt to New York.  

She and the other aurors paused to behold the field, dotted with tents and surrounded by the glow of numerous protective spells. Hushed, but nervous witches and wizards formed tightly-knit groups, passing around a bottle of what had to be firewhisky. The wounded limped out of a tent, larger than the others. Everyone had their own mundane occupation, but there was a sense of readiness, as if, as a collective, they waited with bated breath. 

She realized that it wasn't Paris that felt familiar. It was war.

 

*** 

 

_January, 1927_

Queenie had been fussing over her before she left for the midwest that morning. She kept asking if her coat was warm enough or if she had eaten her fill of breakfast. Queenie knew the answer to all these things, but asked to hear, to have it said, that Tina is prepared.

"You should write Newt back," she said, watching Tina sip the last of her coffee.

"There would be no point," Tina answered, putting her mug down resolutely.

She's been trying to push this thought to the back of her head, going over the briefing and all the facts that she learned about Grindelwald a thousand times, just so she can hide it from Queenie.

"You can't," her sister answered her, "not when he says he's nearly done with that book."

"A letter saying, 'Hello, I am off to hunt and entrap Grindelwald' might be risky."

Queenie rolled her eyes, "That's not the real reason and you know it."

Tina did not really want to have this discussion, which was fast becoming an argument, just hours before a potentially dangerous mission, so she tried to weigh her next words.

 "I'm sorry," Queenie sighed, always ahead, "you're right."

She started at the light that was slowly filling their living room and checked the time. She had thirty minutes to get to MACUSA and catch the Portkey. Queenie stood up  and all but pushed her towards the door. She stopped before she rushed down the steps to hug her sister, at the moment, her one solace. Queenie stepped back and gave her arms a squeeze.

"Oh Teenie, it's perfectly fine to be happy when you think about Newt too. If it doesn't happen, which I highly doubt, you can feel sad _then._ "

Tina nods, but does not agree. She views sadness like a finite cup. The earlier she drinks from it, the less sadness there is to drink at the end.

 

The MACUSA unit in the midwest region was located in Chicago, many miles from the area of their mission. Upon approval, the brief was sent over in order to help the investigative team to fill out some blanks, notable of which was the exact area of the Fairheads' property. MACUSA only had general information on the wizarding families and individuals in the United States, but the regional units had all the details. They had, sadly, very few on the Fairheads.

"Since they retreated from social life quite a while ago, we've not been able to pinpoint the exact location of the property," the fidgety young man assigned to assist them explained.

What the regional unit had, however, was the name and exact location of an individual connected to them.

"Connected how?" Tina asked.

"By marriage. Her elder sister got married to Julien Fairhead 30 years ago."

As with all investigations, it turned convoluted very quickly. Their group paid a visit to the home of one Dorothea Campbell in downtown Chicago, who denied any knowledge of the Fairheads. Ms. Cambell was a frail, bespectacled woman in her 50s and Tina could sense that this was not the first visit she had with representatives of MACUSA. She looked like she wanted to run from her own living room, darting her eyes towards the three male aurors that stood around her. Tina realized, then, what they were doing wrong.

"The three of you will need to leave," she told Graves, as they stood on Dorothea Campbell's porch.

Graves looked taken aback, but Tina hurriedly explained, gesturing towards them, "All of you look like you would tackle her to the ground if she says anything wrong."

"Aurors are supposed to look like that, Goldstein," Thornton scoffed.

"To _criminals_ ," Tina answered, imploringly, "but she's a woman, living alone, who was probably frightened into silence by wizards like you."

The three considered and acquiesced to Tina's relief. Graves pointedly mentioned that they will be at the diner down the street, if they should need anything.

Dorothea had been considerably more forthcoming when she was left with Tina and Gloria, the only other woman in the team. Gloria was quick to catch on and lost her usual severe personality as she encouraged Dorothea to explain what had happened to her sister, most of which was already in her files in the regional unit.

"And the house?" Tina asked, after Ms. Campbell mentioned that her sister had not been seen after she moved in it.

"The house?" the woman answered, blinking at them.

"We need to know where it is," Gloria urged, gently putting a hand on her elbow, "and we'd just like to see how they're living now."

 She shook her head, "It's gone. I've tried going there, but there's nothing,only a field."

They were all silent when Gloria reported their findings, and Tina was mute with embarrassment at sending them all on a fool's errand. She hung her head as they prepared to go back. She had done all that work for a _field._

It was then that Tina stopped in her tracks and gripped Gloria's arm.

"A field," she repeated, widening her eyes at Gloria, "how is it just a field? Why isn't it an abandoned house or a pile of debris?"

Gloria looked at her, understanding what she meant, but wary.

"Goldstein, I'm with you, but if we arrive there and _it's really just a field_ , you'll be sent to the kids' table."

Tina didn't care and suffered the pitying looks she got from the rest of the team. This was war. If there was a chance, they needed to take it.

 

Graves elected himself, Thornton, and Tina to approach and circle the area where Dorothea claimed the Fairhead house stood, while the others stood guard. With disillusionment charms cast on themselves, Tina could not see or signal to Thornton and Graves, but carefully walked around. She was beginning to have the sinking realization that this might have all been futile,  when she saw a patch of grass on her far left, slowly turning yellow, the signal that the reconnaissance was over. Tina hurriedly apparated back to the meeting area, face-to-face with a disgruntled Thornton.

"There wasn't anything in there, Goldstein," he started.

"Settle down, Thornton," Graves said, approaching, "it is definitely in there."

Tina couldn't help but utter a loud, "What?"

Graves explained that there were subtle hints that an illusion had been casted around the area.

"There was a cursebreaker who told me that illusions age," he elaborated, "especially when the caster is dead."

He gestured to the area, "If you look carefully, you'll see that the sky and ground in the center is slightly misaligned with the rest."

Tina was, at first, doubtful, thinking that Graves was just being as needlessly tenacious as she was, but saw what he meant when a cloud passed slowly in the afternoon sky. It _bent_ slightly, when it passed through their view, like the area had been doused in clear water.

They had agreed to start moving the moment the sun set. Enclosing the area with a protective shield, to contain any threat that may come from within, had taken quite a bit of time. It was dark when they took their positions around the illusion. Once Graves gave the signal, each auror was to begin breaking the spell. Breaking an illusion this powerful was tricky. It was trickier to do it in unison. Tina noticed that most witches and wizards had a unique way of preparing themselves for doing complex spellwork. Opposite her, Graves cracked his neck. She preferred to roll back her sleeves. Everyone was silent, but visibly nervous as they watched Graves put up his left hand and make a fist.

They began.

 

*** 

 

She clutched her coat closer as she followed Graves, cutting an impressive figure as he approached the lone man that sat on a chair at the edge of the field, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Took you long enough," the figure spoke, as Graves stood beside him. British, Tina noted.

"Quite a set-up," Graves replied, "almost feels like what we have at home."

"You don't have to be here," the man said, straightening in his chair.

"I do," Graves said shortly, effectively cutting that line of conversation.

In the glow of the firelight, Tina saw the man turn to Graves, the copper of his hair almost orange, his half-smile strangely familiar. He stood up and wordlessly beckoned them to follow him. The knots of witches and wizards nodded respectfully as the auburn-haired man passed them on the way to a nondescript tent.

As with all things magical, the tent was bigger and grander on the inside. It could easily pass for a modest suite. A study immediately greeted anyone who entered, but the bedroom was safely tucked beyond a narrow door to the left. What caught Tina's attention was that the furnishings were just so utterly, and there was no other word for it, _plum_ , a stark contrast to the sobering neutrality of the outside. She didn't have time to ruminate on this as Graves was already comfortably situated on a seat in front of a wooden table, filled with maps and parchment. The man behind it had draped his coat, which she can now see was a dark, almost inky, blue, on the back of the chair, leaving him in a gray waistcoat. He waited for all five of them to file in before conjuring seats and motioning for everyone to sit.

Graves made the introductions short, preferring, like everyone present, to get to business. Tina was shaken out of focus, however, when he introduced the red-haired man as Theseus Scamander.

Theseus noted that she stared a little too long and gave a half-smile. Tina noted that from him, it was confident smirk. With Newt, she thought longingly, it was a nervous grimace.

"I believe you know my brother," he chuckled, before flicking his wand to enlarge the maps and begin the briefing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed "Whitehead" to "Fairhead" because I am mature and it is making me giggle.
> 
> I don't know much about American geography, so pardon the inaccuracies.


	3. Exponents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like Newt, Theseus also literally brings his entire house, while traveling across continents.

 

He arrived just inches inside the barrier of protective spells, straightening before digging into his pocket for a letter.

 

_Newt,_

_Drop the quill. Need you in Paris. Portkey at 5._

_Theseus_

 

Only, this did not look like Paris. He noted a certain lack of urbanity, or of _anything_ but trees and greenery. He rolled his eyes, mildly exasperated. Of course, this war with Grindelwald was something he would involve himself in, no matter what, but exasperation with his brother was ingrained with him after years of demands for Newt to help, no, to assist, on whatever Theseus deemed to be of importance.

Newt looked around, at the community that had formed during this brief respite from battle. None of them were familiar to him but he felt a sense of camaraderie when he saw his own muted desperation reflected in all their faces. Before this, the Ministry had occasionally disturbed his self-imposed, authorial isolation to deal with a growing number of aggressive attacks from creatures that were imposing, to be sure, but almost always left human beings alone. These excursions would range from something as simple as extracting murtlaps from village farms to finding a herd of hippogriffs, set loose at the edge of a city. The memory of that last one still made him wince. He had been unable to contain one and the Ministry's Beast Division was sent to put it down before he had any say.

He approached a wizard, idly repairing the sole of his boot, and asked, in his best, half-remembered French where he can find his brother. The wizard looked up from his boot suspiciously, but softened when he saw Newt's face. He pointed to a tent across. The good thing about setting loose a number of magical beasts in New York was that he never to prove he was himself. 

Newt was still a few feet from the tent when he heard raised voices coming from within. He hesitated just before the flap, not keen on confrontation of any kind, until he heard a familiar voice.

"-ridiculous, downright cruel of you to suggest that!"

Unable to help himself, he quietly stepped inside the tent and found that he was in Theseus's favorite rental. The furnishings immediately made him think of their estate. Their mother favored plum and made sure every corner of their home was this color. This, Newt suspected, was exactly why Theseus preferred to take only this rental during fieldwork, despite its having seen better days.

His brother sat behind the table, watching the argument with his arms crossed and brow furrowed. Like Newt, Theseus had red hair, freckles and blue (sometimes green, sometimes hazel) eyes, but the similarities stopped there. In terms of physique, he always thought of his brother as an erumpent. Broad-shouldered, and burly, Theseus was expressly a product of their lawless childhood in the woods behind the Scamander estate and his rigorous training as the Gryffindor Keeper with the most saves, to date. Also unlike him, Theseus tended to speak his mind. In fact, he can't help but express it with his face, covered as it was with an impressive beard, and his entire body. Right now, for example, he was so obviously telegraphing his disdain for the  man who was violently brandishing a file at Tina.  

"That's MACUSA's position, Goldstein! President Picquery and the rest of Congress debated and this is what the majority voted!"

Newt, himself, immediately felt dislike for the short, stocky man in the pinstriped suit.

Theseus glanced at him, wriggling his bushy eyebrows comically, before looking at Tina.

Newt can't help but note how different this Tina was from the one he bade farewell to more than half a year ago. Her coat had been carelessly thrown on a chair, leaving her in her white top and trousers. And she was _livid_. Red splotches had appeared on her face as she replied:

"It's WRONG, and you know it! They are child-"

"They're just monsters now!"

He flinched as he realized what they'd been arguing about. But, while his instinct was to recoil, Tina turned a deeper shade of red and looked at her opponent in the eye.

"How would you like it if someone said that about your son, Brandon?"

"How dare you! He's not a freak! I suppose you must have sympathy for freaks, Goldstein, since you're related to-"

"Enough," a quiet voice interrupted.

Newt had not noticed Percival Graves sitting opposite his brother, thinner and more weary-looking than the Graves he had met. He held out a hand, motioning for Brandon to give him the file he had been threatening Tina with.

Theseus stood up and addressed the man named Brandon with the most civil tone he could muster, "Percival and I will discuss this thoroughly. We will make a decision once we have all the facts."

"Come in, Newt," his brother continued, " and you need to start making noise when you enter a room."

Tina snapped her head towards him, suddenly aware that he had been standing there this entire time. He tentatively stepped into the room, still looking at her. A thrilling feeling bloomed in his chest, as their eyes met. He rubbed the back of his head, not quite knowing how to handle it. She opened her mouth to say something, but paused and chose, instead, to retrieve her coat.

"I'll see myself out," she said, shrugging it on.

Graves nodded at her, while Theseus looked on with a half-smile. It was obvious that his brother already liked Tina.

She met his eye, approximated a smile, and hurried out.

"The rest of you will need to leave too," Graves said, glancing at the rest of what he assumed to be a team of aurors.

Brandon stubbornly stayed, his eyes on the file that Graves is now lazily leafing through.

"That means you as well, Thornton."

The man in the pinstriped suit looked like he was about to argue but quaked under Theseus's gaze. While Newt did his best to crouch and hide his impressive height, his brother used his to his advantage.

Newt took the seat that Tina's coat vacated and gingerly placed his case on the floor before him.

"Have you had that fixed?" his brother said, eyeing the case.

"There's nothing to worry about," he replied, moving the case from Theseus's line of sight, as if that will make him forget.

He wasn't lying this time though. Not only were the latches new, but he had the case examined for tears and other possible weak spots. As much fun as he had in New York, he was not eager to cause an international incident again.

"I don't believe we've actually met," Graves said, offering his hand and giving a firm handshake.

Newt noted earlier that this Percival Graves was thinner and wearier, but he felt much the same as the one he met all those months ago. He  tried to anchor himself by spotting differences in the posture, and gestures, but found that Grindelwald had successfully copied those too.

"I assure you he is the real thing," Theseus said, breaking his reverie.

"I understand," Graves said, drawing back, smiling,  "I'd always be on guard when looking at the face of the person who sentenced me to death."

Theseus roared with laughter while Newt managed a small smile.

The pleasantries came to an end when Graves passed him the file he was lazily leafing through earlier. Newt opened it and read the trite heading: **25 January 1927, Fairhead Property**

"You have an interesting team, Percival," Theseus commented, while Newt read through the file.

"It's been an ordeal," Graves said, sighing, "Thornton's thrilled to have Congress on his side, but Tina's not backing down."

Newt felt a surge of inappropriate pride at that, but it was quickly replaced by growing horror, as he finished reading.

Theseus and Graves gave him a moment to collect himself, pale and gaping as he was.

"Now, Newt," Theseus addressed him gently, "if you would tell us how the hell do you have an Obscurus in that case of yours." 

 

_***_

_January 1927, Indiana_

Never before had "breaking the spell" been more literal than now as they watched cracks form across space, as if through a thick glass. Disillusionment was always jarring to watch. Areas of magic like apparition or levitation could be grounded in some form of physical reality, but seeing fissures open the sky required some measure of mental fortitude.

When, at last, the enchantment splintered, Tina was able to see a stately, brick house, standing resolutely against the evening sky. She and her team were standing around the abandoned house in all the scary stories she and Queenie read as children. Vines crawled up until the windows of the second story. Grass grew wild under and around a long-forgotten  garden set. The house itself was undamaged, but looked like it had a decade's worth of filth on it.

She gripped her wand tightly as she sensed movement just in front of the porch. Parker, to her left, tensed, and Thornton, to her right, immediately pointed his wand at the noise.

Two boys, holding hands, slowly approached from the porch. When the moonlight washed over them, Tina saw that they had identical, unsmiling faces. Parker looked at her, his expression mirroring her confusion. What were these children doing here?

It seems that all three of them arrived to the same conclusion, but reacted three different ways. Tina started approaching them slowly, Parker froze, but Thornton…

_"Stupefy!"_

"No!" Tina cried, knowing what was to come next.

Graves and Gloria appeared just as a black substance enveloped the two boys. It soon started hurling towards their direction.

" _Protego!"_ Tina and Gloria cried in unison, while Graves, wand raised, shoved Thornton, and yelled, "Run!"

The combined size of the two obscurus was almost as massive as the one attached to Credence. The shield worked, but Tina doubted it would take the obscurus a long time to realize that it had a limited range.

"We need to stop them," Parker said, readying his wand, and pointing at the center of the black cloud.

"Don't you dare!" Tina shouted, not breaking the shield.

Whichever decision was best at the time, none of them had the luxury of knowing.  A voice had called out from the front door of the house and the obscurus retreated, as if summoned. The two little boys hurried towards the figure standing by the porch. Grindelwald placed his hands atop their heads, in blatant expression of ownership.

Parker fired first, wisely attempting to immobilize Grindelwald. His bravado was instantly rewarded by a curse that shriveled his wand arm. They watched in horror, as the dark wizard accomplished this by making a crushing gesture with his right hand. Parker did not see the curse coming and was unable to defend himself, an unfortunate mishap when dealing with powerful, wandless magic. Tina moved in front of him to fend off any imminent attack.

Graves approached then, bold and openly challenging, despite the deftness with which the dark wizard fired the curse. Hooded figures appeared beside the boys and apparated away the moment they started advancing. Tina barely got a hex in, wounding the one nearest her. The figure groaned, but persisted on apparition, leaving a splatter of blood in their wake. 

Graves attacked Grindelwald with an impressive array of spells, but the dark wizard easily moved behind a second layer of invisible protection around the estate. Undeterred, they began battering the estate's magical defense in unison. It took them a minute to blow a hole in the barrier, but Grindelwald only needed seconds to escape.

Tina still remembered how he looked straight at her, and smiled.  


*** 

 

After a somber discussion with Graves and his brother, he found Tina, standing apart from her fellow aurors and looking furiously at the bonfire. Her face changed instantly when she registered that he was approaching. Newt wondered how on earth was he ever going to be less transparent with her, as he felt the thrill in his chest grow exponentially with her smile.

"Mr. Scamander."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In writing, I learned it's best to fire and forget. *closes eyes and presses the button*


	4. Interruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spam mail exists in the wizarding world of the 1920s. Newt hunts for grindylow, while Theseus hunts for Grindelwald.

Theseus had asked him to wait while he and Graves deliberated. The International Confederation was meeting in the morning and the Minister was awaiting Theseus's recommendation regarding their stance on handling the obscurus. MACUSA had ruled in favor of termination on sight, despite Tina's repeated and vocal objections.

Newt voiced similar protests during his discussion with Theseus and Graves.

"We just need to _contain_ them," he said, "and make the hosts, the children, feel that they are safe, then the parasite can be extracted."

"The issue is if we can even come close to contain them," Graves explained, atop laced fingers.

"And," his brother paused, looking at him, but treading carefully, "there is the matter of the host surviving after the parasite has been removed."

Newt looked away and hid behind his hair. He knew that this was an act of kindness on Theseus's part. If he was to advocate against neutralizing the obscurus, then other wizards will most likely give these arguments repeatedly and in less tactful ways. It was necessary to hear, but it still stung. 

"I understand that there is a certain degree of difficulty in handling the obscurus, but I'd like everyone in the confederation to remember that we, adults, had a hand in allowing them to exist. It is our responsibility to act as _humanely_ as possible."

He forced himself to look at Graves and his brother, to emphasize the point. He was feeling the bewildered anger that rose when Grindelwald, speaking as Graves, talked about using the obscurus. Theseus smiled at him, always particularly delighted when his little brother showed his so-called "mettle", while Graves sighed.

"Yes," he said, "Tina has expressed this to President Picquery…in a more colorful manner."

"I'll be sure to put this argument forward when I speak to the Minister in," Theseus took out his pocket watch, "three hours."

He stood up and motioned for Newt to follow him out the tent.

"I'll finish this discussion with Percival, but you and I will need to have a chat, Newt."

Theseus passed him a folded piece of paper surreptitiously. He took the hint and slid it inside his waistcoat.

"In the meantime," Theseus said, eyebrows wiggling suggestively, "why don't you find Ms. Goldstein and huddle with her by a fire?"

 

 

Newt was surprised when he found himself, a few minutes after, exactly as Theseus had drolly advised. Tina had mutely motioned him into her tent. As he hung his coat beside hers on the rack beside the entrance, he catalogued it like it was the habitat of a new creature. Inside was a sparsely furnished flat, that had a fireplace, two four-poster beds, each with an individual side table and lamp, and an area cordoned off for bathing. There were rugs placed beside the beds and in front of the fireplace, small attempts to make it feel homey. Newt got the sense that Tina had used this tent often. She looked utterly at home as she approached one of the beds, with a simple belted leather bag on it. A brown trunk stood open beside the other bed, showing soft garments of almost similar hues of green, with the odd purple and cream, and a pair of laced-up, heeled boots. It was a shared domicile, he concluded, with another female.

"It's MACUSA-issued," Tina explained, pulling out a mug from her luggage.

She strode towards the front of the fireplace and plopped on the rug in front of it. She tapped the mug that she brought with her, making it two, and filled both with a dark liquid.

"Would you like to sit, Mr. Scamander?" she said, turning to him, and patting the space beside her.

Feeling a bit daft at all the silent staring that he had been doing, he hurriedly joined her, and took a sip of the mug.

"Cocoa," he said, surprised.

"Queenie insists that I bring some with me at all times and she can be relentless about things." She laughed. "I see that your own brother also likes getting his way."

Newt groaned, immediately sharing in her gentle frustration at demanding siblings, "Theseus is exceptionally-gifted at  persuasion. It helps that he is intimidating, but he manages mostly through charm."

"A family trait, I think," she replied quietly, as if she had not meant to say it.

He was so surprised at the implication, that he burned his tongue while drinking the cocoa. He looked at Tina, who was staring pointedly at the fire, her face pink, but carefully blank. Newt felt, once again, as he had felt when they stood on the docks of New York, all those months ago. He felt as if Tina had been looking at him, and _seeing_ him, quite as much as he had her.

She stole a glance at him. Her eyes widened at what she saw in his face and rushed to change the subject. He cursed internally, wondering what stupendously silly expression was he making.

"Why were you called here?" she asked, after clearing her throat.

"Theseus wanted his judgment on the obscurus repeated to him by another person, and," he patted his waistcoat for the piece of paper that his brother handed to him, "I believe, in larger part, this."

He unfolded it and angled it under the firelight for Tina to see. It was a black-and-white Muggle photograph. At first, it looked like a simple snapshot of sunrise peeking through the tops of the trees, but at the edge, just about to enter the frame, was a silhouette of a winged creature with a long, spiked, reptilian neck. Its head was turned away from the camera, as if it was also watching the sun, but the creature that the photo captured was unmistakable.

"A dragon?" she asked incredulously, taking a closer look.

"Theseus likely does not want to alert the camp, until I confirm it. There will be signs and markings in the area if a creature this large was flying about."

"I am hoping  that this does not have anything to do with Grindelwald, although that's being naïve. Between this and the twins," she faltered, hugging her mug closer, "I mean, the obscurus, it would be difficult to…"

Unable to help himself, Newt brushed back the curtain of dark hair that covered the side of her face. His fingers gently brushed the edge of her ear as he tucked back her tresses. Tina trailed off, distracted by the gesture. He swallowed when she looked up at him, tentative, and pink, once again. It seemed that he brought them back to where she had ingenuously tried to steer them away from.

"You never wrote to me about Indiana," he said.

 

***

 

_Late March 1927_

Newt arrived at the tiny room he rent atop The Leaky Cauldron. He frowned at the wet, musty smell that greeted him upon entering. It had, as always, been raining in London and he absentmindedly left a window ajar. He would be more upset that his headboard was soaked with rain, if he actually used it, but with an enchanted suitcase in tow, he finds himself amenable to any living condition, no matter how sordid. His quarters only barely managed to hold a ratty, single bed, a bar stool and a tiny wooden table,  cluttered with notebooks, books, and several bits of spare parchment with the odd sketch, phrase, or word. To a stranger, the desk was chaos, but to Newt, it made perfect sense. He sidled across the narrow space between the bed and the table, picked out one book, purposefully selected three pieces of parchment from a hundred and tucked these between specific pages in the book. He was ready to enter his suitcase when a pile of letters at the foot of his bed caught his eye. It had grown considerably in his week-long absence. He stuffed it in one of the large pockets of his coat, hoping that it was more than the usual mail from his subscription to the always dry, but absolutely essential, _The Herbologist._ These, however, are momentarily forgotten after he sheds his coat and tosses his book and notes onto his work bench. He rolls up his sleeve while  walking out the shed in his suitcase. There was work to do.

Being the creator and, for a long time, the only human visitor in his suitcase, Newt treated its splendor with apathy. He was attentive and constantly in awe of his creatures, but the cleverness and power with which he formed their habitats never occurred to him. If anything, the constant repairs and changes he made as he went through this extended space was a chore. He was, however, completely in his element when interacting with the creatures. He moves among them with instinct and quiet competence, mentally reciting the subtle changes he makes to the diet and habitat of each creature he tends to. He tips a vial of purple fluid into the pail of indistinct meat before feeding it to the graphorns and notes that the herd looks healthier and livelier, having contracted a rather amusing strain of sniffles. The occamies have taken to playful pecking, but he sees that the youngest one sports a gash near his beak. Newt conjures a separate nest and deposits the creature before moving to the mooncalves, who were behaved and satisfied with the handful of pellets he tossed in the air. For the erumpent, he magicks a thicker foliage. She snorts in glee before chomping away at her replenished snacks. He quickly checks on the other creatures that prefer to be left alone and makes note, sadly, that he will have to stop putting off vanishing Frank's old home. Newt completes his rounds with a pet for Dougal and a particularly shiny penny for the niffler.

The sight of his shed was infinitely more welcoming than the cramped room he rented. His desk was less messy, as he had migrated his work to the outside. He found that it was easier to focus when he didn't have to pry notes out of Dougal's paws or when billywigs didn't constantly buzz by his head. Today, though, he only had his mail to contend with. He was grateful that the Ministry asked him to travel to Portsmouth to investigate grindylow sightings when he did not have to work on his book. It had taken him longer than expected when he found that he had to trap not one grindylow, but four of them. He stretched his aching legs as he went through the correspondence. He left the packet and the two letters from _The Herbologist_ unopened, knowing that it was most likely just this month's publication and letters politely asking if he would like to upgrade to a more premium subscription. The letter from Augustus was less predictable, congratulating him on the completion of his book and informing him that, if all goes well, copies would be available in a month's time. Not wanting to forget, he reached for a sheet of parchment and hastily wrote:

 

_Augustus,_

_This is wonderful news! It is pitiful that I was unable to include my newest notes on grindylows, coming from my recent trip from Portsmouth (they may not be solitary creatures, as we once thought), but perhaps I will discuss this with more notable naturalists so the information may be disseminated._

_If possible, please have the publication house reserve one copy of the book_

He paused and scratched out the last few words.

_If possible, please have the publication house reserve ~~one copy of the book~~ the first published copy of the book and have that sent to me as soon as they are able._

_Newt Scamander_

 

The rugged tawny owl he kept hooted excitedly when she saw Newt sealing the letter.

"You'll need to wait for me to finish all my responses, Madeline," he chuckled.

The next two letters were from the Ministry and Theseus. Both thanked him for handling the Portsmouth incident, but the latter ended with good-natured ribbing, and a vague update that his brother is still "vacationing" in France. Newt knew he did not have to respond to both. The letter from the Ministry came in as a supporting document for when he clocked in hours on the field, and Theseus's letter was his brother's weekly proof of life. They discussed that it was too risky to reply in the middle of his manhunt for Grindelwald, so the correspondence was one-sided. He did, however, have to send Theseus's letter to their parents, attached with a note from him that they both send their love.

His face and posture turned eager when he saw his name on the last envelope, in a familiar handwriting. He was happy when Tina had resumed writing to him the month before the last. Their correspondence had stuttered and halted in the weeks after Grindelwald escaped MACUSA custody. It had taken a short letter, which was mainly a carefully crafted, less desperate version of _please tell me that you're all right_ , embarrassingly written after his last unanswered correspondence, before Tina replied. Her letter was equally brief, with apologies and assurance that she and Queenie were fine. Their correspondence had returned to their previous regularity after that, but he noticed that Tina had been less forthcoming about MACUSA and more curious about the nature of the obscurus. Her latest letter read:

 

_Mr. Scamander,_

He frowned at that. He thought that him changing his address to "Tina" was an implicit permission to call him by his first name, but she insisted on diffidence.

_I expect that you will find this letter after your trip to Portsmouth. I have heard that grindylows are tricky, but I am confident that you will handle them with aplomb. Nevertheless, would you please let me know once you have returned? I hope you will not take after my bad habit and take weeks to reply._

_Thank you for your extensive description on the exact substance that an obscurus is made of. I know that answering these questions might have emotionally strained you, so I am certain that you will be relieved to know that that was the last of my inquiry. I have been obnoxiously relentless in my last letters, and I am indebted to you, for your patience._

_I hope that you are closer to writing the perfect conclusion for your book. You mentioned that you have been wrestling with this for the past few weeks. I am eager to receive you when you return to New York, if you are still inclined, so I can fully express my gratitude._

_Tina Goldstein_

Newt's expression turned from excitement to fondness when he finished the letter, Tina's gentle smile filling his mind, He penned a reply, thoughtfully, vacillating between the desire to surprise her by turning up with his book, unannounced, and wanting to politely give her notice that she will be receiving him next month. He settled on the less daring middle ground and informed her that he had made quite a bit of progress with the conclusion. He added that he will be keeping her abreast on the date of his arrival in New York, which might happen soon enough. He was being realistic, he reasoned, as he tied the letters around Madeline's feet, and not at all fearful that he might be managing this new, fragile thing with Tina horrendously.

"She might be too busy to see me," he was telling Madeline, who perched on his shoulder when he climbed up the ladder.

"We might not even see each other in New York," he continued, his voice expressing a deep disappointment he did not know he felt.

Madeline hooted impatiently, and tapped the window with her beak.

"You're right," he said, pushing the window open for her, "there's no use worrying."

He didn't know then, but that would be the last he'd be able to write to Tina.

 

***

 

Tina took a sip of her cocoa before replying to him, "It was classified. I thought it might be best to wait until...I saw you again."

Newt understood that the pause meant that, like him, she had wanted their reunion to happen very differently. He preferred that they did not meet each other again in a battleground, but it seemed that he and Tina were always brought together by the most dire of circumstances. He bemoaned, in his mind, that he did not even have the book yet.

"Was the incident in Indiana why you asked about the obscurus?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I wanted to find out all I could about them before I make a recommendation, but it made no difference. MACUSA ruled in favor of termination on sight."

He shook his head, "It is probably not within just American jurisdiction to decide that."

"I know, but the two boys are American, so the confederation might be willing to just hand them over once this is all done."

Tina looked closed to being explosively upset again, so he reached out and touched her wrist.

"Don't despair. It is everyone's war, so everyone will have a voice in it."

She stared at the hand that rested on her wrist and gave a small smile.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispered.

A warmth spread across his chest, rendering him unable to think of a response that could eloquently express that he also, selfishly, felt happy that he could see her again. He was saved the trouble of doing so when he heard someone clearing their throat.

A woman dressed in a thick green coat stood behind them with her arms crossed and her eyebrow raised.

"Gloria!" Tina exclaimed, jumping.

"Graves told me that I would find Mr. Scamander here," she said, looking at him curiously, "and said that his brother will need to speak with him now."

Newt stood up. He and Tina stared at each other. Not knowing what to say, and not quite wanting to leave, he settles on the possibly too forward, "May I come here again?"

He wanted to kick himself the moment the words left his mouth. He made it sound like he was a gentleman-caller in a casual visit in a parlor. He was relieved when Tina consented, chuckling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'll amp up the pacing after this


	5. Swan Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion between brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no Tina, but there is plot. We are all disappointed, including the author.
> 
> Please just let me get through this.

Newt caught two thin notebooks that Theseus tossed him when he re-entered the tent. His brother was busily picking out random parchment and maps and stuffing them in his briefcase.

"I see you've taken advantage of Paris with the lovely Ms. Goldstein," he said, smiling, but not looking at Newt.

"This is _hardly_ Paris, Theseus," he said, taking the seat he vacated about an hour ago.

"It is an isolated commune in rural Paris. It is still, geographically Paris."

"And what are these?" Newt asked, choosing not to split hairs.

"Those are copies of my field notes, obviously, for you and Ms. Goldstein. I need outside perspective," Theseus answered, closing his briefcase and plopping down on the chair opposite him.

His brother's notes were clear, precise, and written to be read by many people. Newt thought that this must be the discipline that Ministry paperwork had drilled into Theseus. He was distantly wondering if he should make his own field notes legible when Theseus used his foot to tap his shin and get his attention.

"Did you look at the photograph I gave you, Newton?"

Newt notices the use of his first name and unconsciously sits straighter before taking out said photograph.

"It's dangerous that a Muggle took this," he said, turning over the unmoving picture.

He then sees a scrawl that dates it _April 1927_. Even more dangerous.

"We were able to Obliviate the Muggle, and take that before he went back to the city." Theseus said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It was then that Newt observed that his brother, despite his energy and good humor, showed physical signs of exhaustion. There are dark circles under his eyes and a slight droop in his otherwise perfect posture.

"How come we didn't hear about this back home? It's a pup in the photo, but it has most likely gotten larger in the weeks that followed."

"Sabine and I made the call not to alert the government outside of France until the dragon makes itself known again."

"Sabine?"

"Your future sister-in-law."

Newt cringes at this, leading Theseus to amend, grinning, "Sabine is the French Ministry's Lead Auror for Foreign Threats."

"I see."

" _And_ your future sister-in-law."

"All right," Newt concedes, eager to get back to the topic at hand, "then I assume the dragon _hasn't_ made an appearance. Why call me here?"

"I need you to take a gander at the area to make sure that France's Beast Division didn't miss anything," Theseus flicks his wand, making a marked map land on Newt's lap, "because I have a feeling that this has something to do with that bastard."

"What is he doing here, Theseus? And why?"

His brother sighs, pointing his wand on the desk where several more marked maps and photos started spreading out and floating in midair.

"You were _late_ so you missed the briefing. You need to better manage your time," his brother commented before launching into the brief that he evidently gave one too many times.

 

_After fleeing American soil, Gellert Grindelwald was rumored to be on several European locations, but was confirmed to be in France. It had taken the combined power of Theseus's team, France's aurors and delegates from neighboring European countries to track him to an isolated location in Paris._

"So, you see that's _why_ we're not in Paris proper," Theseus remarked, while Newt rolled his eyes.

_The area is, of course, fortified with enchantments and illusions. It had taken a suicide mission from two days ago involving a team with some of Theseus's best men for the camp to even determine where Grindelwald settled. Most of them perished, but one, a member of the Italian auror delegation, had returned, tortured, wounded and accompanied by a swan patronus. The patronus demanded that we listen to the freed captive, for he speaks with Gellert Grindelwald's voice._

 "What did he say?"

"Oh, he had the perfectly reasonable demand to be legitimized as a head of a cross-continental political organization," Theseus answered, frowning, "which means he will be free to round up followers and preach that Magic is Might nonsense without us pursuing him."

"I sense that there is a less than reasonable consequence if his demands are not met."

_Grindelwald and a handful of his followers had sequestered an already geographically secluded Muggle village. If he is not allowed to walk away free and is not given public legitimacy within a two-week period, he will annihilate the Muggle population._

"I must say that he's been a proper gentleman with the two-week period," Newt observed.

"I believe that's also for himself. In the event that we do not give in to his demands, he will want time to fortify whatever flimsy excuse of an army he has in there."

  _A day after, another survivor, one of his men, resurfaced, claiming to have escaped the village. Given Grindelwald's MO, they interrogated and tested both for dark magic separately and temporarily dismissed them from active duty, until those assigned to observe them pronounce them clear. Their testimonies matched, but Theseus was still wont to be doubtful of their accuracy if not for one detail._

 

"They corroborated MACUSA's report that Gellert Grindelwald has with him, two obscurials. This was classified information, so there was no other way for them to know, otherwise. They reported that two members of that team were killed, inexplicably, by a black cloud of an unfamiliar substance."

Newt grimaced at this, knowing that this part of the report would not help the children's case with the International Confederation.

"You now see how this is going to be an even bigger problem," Theseus said, waving his wand to return the documents on his desk.

"How are you even going to convince the Minister to vote for an alternative solution, Theseus?"

His brother's lip quirked. Cockiness, he detected, amazed at the volumes that Theseus's face can communicate. He had been waiting for Newt to ask this question.

"Why, by _providing_ the alternative solution, brother of mine," he exclaimed, standing and getting to his coat, " _and_ I'll have to, of course, tell them that one of the children _helped_ the second auror escape."

He groaned at Theseus withholding that last bit of information.

"Ah, you mock it, but showmanship is how you convince politicians to do anything," Theseus said, patting him on the head.

"I am still in the dark as to why he would pick Paris," he pointed out, gently swatting away his brother's hand, "when he could wreak havoc in a much larger magical community, like England."

" _Newt_ ," his brother called, incredulous that he raised this, "he would never touch England. He's been tiptoeing around it, rallying forces in Europe _around_ it because England has-"

"Albus Dumbledore," Newt finished, somewhat lackluster.

"You'd have gotten there, eventually," Theseus said, grinning and taking his briefcase.

He stepped towards a bottle that began glowing, telling Newt that he was, _under no circumstances_ , going to look for the dragon before his return. Theseus, then, reached for the bottle and disappeared, leaving Newt standing in the tent that reminded him of home.


	6. Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina gives and accepts. Newt seeks a dragon and finds something else entirely.

After more than a decade on the job, Theseus had learned that it was necessary to savor even the small victories. His daily encounters with the dark side of the wizarding world would have been enough to permanently drain anyone's optimism, but Theseus refused to live there. If he was going to endure in this job, he knew that he needed to dwell on the dark days less and take time to rejoice on the few good days it has. One such day was today, even if he was in a foreign country, pursuing an international criminal. He smiled self-satisfactorily as he sat in his tent, with a long piece of parchment in his had that read:

 

**DIRECTIVE 1927/12/ OF THE INTERNATIONAL CONFEDERATION**

**of 23 May 1927**

**on the capture and subjugation of Gellert Grindelwald, and his followers, and the cessation of the siege in Fontainebleau**

_This directive authorizes Taskforce Phoenix to execute the highest levels of offensive and defensive magic for the arrest of dark wizard, Gellert Grindelwald and his followers. The Confederation rejects any and all demands made by said dark wizard and his faction. Negotiation and/or dialogue with the target is forbidden._

_If grave threat to individuals, both magical and non-magical, is imminent, terminate the target on sight. The safety of Fontainebleu and its inhabitants is top priority. Repair and Obliviation are approved upon request._

_The Taskforce must rescue and contain two confirmed Obscurials held hostage by Gellert Grindelwald. Members of the unit are called to exercise caution in using offensive magic against these children. Any act that leads to harm will be tried by the Confederation._

_This directive recognizes the American citizenship of the Obscurials. Once the extraction of the Obscurus parasite is complete, they must be released into MACUSA's custody._

_The Confederation is committed to ensuring the children's re-integration into wizarding society. They will be surrendered into the magical foster system and monitored by a MACUSA-appointed guardian. If any sign of the parasite resurfaces, the guardian is required to exterminate the Obscurials. Failure to do so will result in their immediate and permanent dismissal from duty._

 

He was not particularly happy with the last condition but President Picquery was adamant on including it. She was in a difficult position after being pressured by the Confederation to show mercy to the Obscurials. Theseus knew that Picquery's insistence on exterminating the Obscurials would garner criticism from the wizarding world, but the American wizarding community would lynch her if the children ever cause harm to anybody after their re-integration in society. Theseus decided that given the complications of the case, this was the best they can do at such a short time. His eyes fell unto the name and signature filled in for _Appointed Guardian_ , and could not help think that Newt would disagree.

"You've returned," his brother called from the entrance of the tent, as if summoned by his thoughts.

Theseus frowned at his awkward, lanky, but inexplicably charming brother. When they were children, people had trouble telling them apart, given the short three years between them. However, Theseus found that he and Newt resemble each other less as their chosen manner of living diverged. He picked up a parcel wrapped with brown paper and threw it to his brother, who, by habit, caught it effortlessly. It was in the pile of mail that his assistant had hurriedly given him before he returned to camp. In his absence, the administrative work had fallen solely to the poor chap, who was not able to check that the post, once again, delivered mail to the wrong Mr. Scamander.

"If that is what I think it is, I'd like to know why there's only one copy, Newton," he said, frowning.

Newt coughed and dropped the parcel in one of his large pockets before changing the subject, a habit he adapted when pressured to discuss anything remotely romantic. His brother might think that he was being effectively secretive about his affections towards Tina Goldstein, but to Theseus, it is this reticence that made it as clear as day.

"I take it that your visit to London went well?"

Theseus carelessly flicked his wand, causing the parchment he had been holding to float towards Newt. He watched Newt's face subtly change from disinterest to relief to apprehension.

 

***

_A few minutes ago_

The heads of Taskforce Phoenix and all the American aurors that were requested to join in the pursuit for Grindelwald converged in his tent, to be informed on the Confederation's final decision. Like Theseus, Almost everyone was somewhat satisfied with result, except for Thornton, who proved to be an unpleasant as Theseus expected.

"It's all well and good for _you_ , but this is implying that some unlucky fellow's going to have to keep an eye on those two until they're of age," he said, eyeing the directive distastefully, "and it'll have to be one of _us._ "

Theseus sighed. He was obnoxious, but he had a point.

"I believe it is the only reason your president agreed to the other clauses" Sabine commented, with just the slightest accent underlying her otherwise perfect English.

Like Theseus, she did not care for Thornton's brusqueness. Arms crossed and gray eyes steely, Sabine was beautiful and poised in her spite.

"Well, who's it going to be?" Thornton said, conveying that it will most certainly not be him.

He glanced at Graves, who looked up from the parchment.

"President Picquery appointed me to select a guardian from the aurors present here," he supplied, handing over a parchment with the MACUSA seal.

"It will need to be one of you because you're closest to this case," Graves explained, glancing at the four aurors standing around him, "and I understand that you four are already exhausted, but I'd like to ask if any of you would volunteer before I am forced to make the guardianship, an order."

The long silence that followed allowed Theseus to properly look at Graves's subordinates and objectively consider who he would like to take this role. Thornton would not take this thankless responsibility and would most likely find the smallest reason to exterminate the Obscurials. Parker, who has a permanently withered arm, gifted by Grindelwald, would take the role if thrust upon him, but would most likely do it clinically and bitterly. Kinney, on the other hand, had received a cross-promotion to International Liaisons and will cease to be an auror before the year ends. There was really only one person who was right for the job.

"I'll take it," Tina said, clear-eyed and determined.

Graves nodded, and sent the directive her way for her signature. Theseus took the document and startled Tina with a brief hug. He felt that he needed to convey that the gesture was appreciated.

"Thank you, all of you," he said, "but I urge everyone to rest. We deploy in a few hours for a reconnaissance mission before we attack."

 

***

 

Newt returned the parchment with a somber face after Theseus gave this account. His hands fidgeted restlessly and absent-mindedly reached inside the coat pocket where he had dropped the brown parcel. Theseus cleared his throat, feeling very much like he was in his teens, about to tell his little brother that, yes, he needed to finish his breakfast before playing with the hippogriffs.

"About the dragon, Newt," he said, not bothering to pick at the issue of Tina Goldstein, "I'll need you to lead France's Beast Division in their final sweep of the area tonight."

"Yes," his brother nodded, looking towards the flap of the tent.

"They'll escort you since they are more familiar with the terrain, but they're made to understand that they would defer to you when it comes to the tracking, and, if we' ever, the capture" he said, slowly, trying to make sure that his brother understood every word in his distracted state.

Newt nodded.

"You'll meet them in an hour," he pressed on, "and they'll be the ones to brief you. I am certain you'll be able handle this, but be careful."

Newt looked at his brother at that and opened his mouth to no doubt return a similarly brotherly sentiment, but Theseus cut him off.

"Ms. Goldstein should be back in her tent," he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

He did not have to be told twice and rushed out. Theseus massaged his neck, keenly feeling the exhaustion now that he did not have Newt to amuse him. Stifled, as he always was, by being inside, he stood and thought to walk a bit outside to stretch his legs before retiring.

He was surprised to find Sabine approaching, short dark hair, whipping across her angular face and tailored gray coat pulled nonchalantly around her lithe frame.

"Theseus," she said, mirroring his surprise, "I am to tell you that our Beast Division has arrived early and is ready to speak with your brother, if he so wishes."

He spied his brother just in front of the tent, opposite his, standing closely to Ms. Goldstein, who was most likely confirming her decision. It was an unfortunate by-product of being siblings, but, although unseen by anyone who cared to watch, Theseus could tell that Newt was, very obviously, fighting, and slowly losing to, the compulsion to touch her.

"My brother needs more time," he answered, nodding towards Newt.

Sabine turned just in time to see Newt put his arms around Tina. Both froze in hesitation and surprise, but soon slowly fell into each other.

"Ah," she said, understanding, "it is always nice to see love in times such as these."

Theseus chuckled, "I do hope that they both _know_ that is what it is."

Their embrace was interrupted by the front of Newt's coat, violently shifting. Pickett, the bowtruckle that had been in his brother's care for some time, did not appreciate being crushed. The pair laughed, stepped back a bit, but did not part completely. After coaxing the creature back inside his coat, Newt dug nervously in his pocket and presented Tina with the brown parcel that Theseus found in his mail. Tina's face lit up when she unwrapped it. She gave Newt a bright smile as she folded the crimson book against her chest. He stood, gently transfixed and completely idiotic, forgetting that he had not smiled back or that his hands remained pressed on Tina's hips.

"I am certain they will be married within this year," Sabine concluded.

"I disagree," he replied, chuckling, "because everything around my brother falls apart despite his good intentions. They'll most likely marry next year or so."

Her laugh is a gentle rumble that never quite makes it out of her lips. Theseus found it rather charming.

"Well, they say nothing good gets away."

"What about us? When are we to marry?"

The words came out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. What is it with brunettes that made Scamander men unable to think clearly?

Sabine did not even turn to him when she answered, "After this. If we are both still alive."

She left him, standing there, gently transfixed and completely idiotic.

 

***

 

The clearing looked like it never had a dragon set foot in it. The French Ministry's Beast Division had not been incompetent and remained completely professional despite Theseus's subtle implication that he did not trust their judgment completely. They had even been pleasant and expressed their admiration for his strangely well-known expertise. The only thing that made Newt uncomfortable was their absolute refusal to speak in English. Like any young man of his particular standing, Newt understood French well-enough to decipher what his companions told him, but was embarrassed by his obvious ineptitude in it. Whenever he switched to English, all of them looked almost aggressively blank and seemed to much prefer communicating with him when he spoke with a child's grasp of their language.

However, even linguistic difficulties during a dragon hunt could not upset him today. The image on Tina beaming at him as she held his book against her chest had given him an odd sense of determination to see this through. Growing up with an uncanny ability to attract chaos, he was resigned that his doom would most likely greet him just around the corner and resolved to improvise an escape if he can or clasp its hands cheerfully if he cannot. Today, he felt different. He felt he wanted to successfully help in the pursuit for Grindelwald, _and_ return to see the many different faces Tina Goldstein can have when she looks at him.

He notes with surprise how great a departure this was from the last time he was taken with someone.

His reverie was broken when Raoul, one of the tracking specialists in the French Beast Division, called his name. He berated himself for being momentarily absentminded before responding. Raoul let a frown mar his heavily tanned face before explaining that this was the only area in the vicinity that could conceivably hold the creature without prior detection. The region was covered by trees and would most likely suffer frequent forest fires with a dragon pup, which would still be learning to control its abilities, wandering in it. Newt found the conclusion succinct, but began to see that the area was clear of any indication that a creature had been in it because magic was used to do so.

"The trees in here are new," he explained, wincing at his rudimentary French, "but the ones that we passed going here are very very old. Magic was used to regrow these trees."

He continued pointing out other signs that showed that the area was a patchwork of things that were naturally-occurring and those that were restored or covered-up by magic. Newt didn't blame them for missing these because only a person who had experience in hiding and smuggling magical creatures could pick them out. He knew a bit about that.

He was examining a particularly large oak tree and discovered that it was completely hollow and had markings of a specific kind of magic that he was all too familiar with.

Newt signaled to the members of the division and whispered, indicating the tree, "Extension charm. Please send in help if I do not return in ten minutes."

They watched tensely as he used his wand to make a hole big enough to accommodate him. With a nod, he climbed in, trying to be stealthy, lest he be greeted by an array of curses from inside, but immediately fell headfirst on the ground.

It did not surprise him that he had entered, not the inside of an oak tree, but a conjured space, that of a wide, grassy plain. What _did_ surprise him was the figure that stood a few meters from, but directly in front of him.

"Hello, Newt," Leta Lestrange greeted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes the pace a little bit more exciting. Apologies to anyone who knows France's geography and is horrified by the inaccuracies.


	7. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships are tested in the midst of war.

The plain stretched as far as the eye can see, and had significantly less trees than the forest on the other side. The sun was high and the wind, pleasantly light. It would have reminded Newt of summers in England, if he had the sense to notice, but his mind was currently occupied with pure shock.

Leta Lestrange was before him in all her imperious beauty, clad in black and gold, hair, bound in a long, thick braid down her back. For more than a decade, he had only seen her in the forgotten photo in his suitcase. To behold her in reality was something he had not expect to happen so soon. After the shock somewhat receded, the emotions he associated with her rose to the surface so quickly, that he felt raw.

 Unlike him, she looked perfectly self-possessed and had no trouble meeting his gaze. He felt like they were back in Hogwarts, with him trying to match her penetrating stare and, once again, failing, shamefully ducking his head. Leta seemed to have the same recollection, a smirk growing slowly, almost deliberately, on her lips.

 "I would have thought you'd have outgrown that by now," she commented, not taking her eyes off him.

 "I've changed in other ways," he replied, feeling braver than he initially thought.

 Leta seemed taken aback but did not let it show for more than a second. She was able to school her expression back into the smile that he knew so well.

 "You won't find her here," she said, turning, walking lazily.

Newt found himself suddenly capable of rational thought and saw the pieces fall into place. The swan patronus, the inflammable gloves that Leta was wearing. He was an idiot and Theseus would be ashamed of him.

"But this is where you keep her?"

She looked back and flashed a truly delighted smile.

"It used to be a viable shelter, but she grew so large that she barreled through the entrance and escaped. Still, I'd have to thank you for the idea, Newt. I heard about your case and thought it would be excellent to apply it here."

"And where is she now?"

"I knew that you'd be involved in this, sooner or later," she said, walking towards him, but distractedly looking elsewhere.

This was how he and Leta were. He asked questions and started discussions that she responded to, only tangentially, as if she was having a completely different conversation, where he was only mildly relevant. What he once thought was charming flightiness, he now recognized as something else.

"Leta," he called, trying to catch her attention, "were you able to successfully shelter her elsewhere? Where is she?"

She was standing in front of him now, leaning, as if to whisper conspiratorially.

"Do you know? She's a good girl. She does everything I ask of her."

Newt fell silent and stared at her, surprised the he was keenly feeling the exhaustion that he often tamped down when he was younger. He realized that he wasn't used to this anymore. He had grown older and, especially most recently, became accustomed to people talking _to_ him and engaging _with_ him even if he tried very hard to flit away unnoticed. A very different pair of dark eyes, clear and unwavering came to mind. He shook his head to keep himself focused and decided on a different approach.

"Dragons were not meant to have masters. Surely, you must have known this."

Her smile faded, and she began walking away from him again.

"All creatures are at their best, when given the right master. Even human beings."

Echoes of another's words rang in her statement. This was the only confirmation that he needed.

"Is that what Grindelwald told you?"

She did not respond, which meant that she did not much like where this was heading. In their youth, Newt  would have heeded this, but this was much larger than the matter of keeping Leta Lestrange close to him.

"He's using you," he said, wishing to bring this charade to an end.

"He _believes_ in me," she hissed through gritted teeth.

The silence after this exchange felt long, and was only broken sounds of urgent conversation from the other side of the tree trunk. He only caught snippets, but heard enough to deduce that his companions were getting ready to enter. Leta looked alarmed and drew her wand.

"Promise me, when the time comes, you will help me," she said, looking at him imploringly.

"Leta-"

" _Promise me._ "

He felt something stir inside him, like a muscle that had awaken after several years of being dormant.

 

 ***

 

Theseus was taken aback when he begun his account of what happened, and now looked thoroughly displeased. Newt squirmed under his brother's gaze, feeling rather exposed.

"And what did you say?" Theseus asked, a few moments he ended his story.

Newt flinched. His brother's eyes, like his, were startlingly bright. At the moment, they were focused on him and almost felt like physical thing, impatiently compelling him to give an answer. The _right_ answer.

"I said I would help," he  said, shortly, knowing how it sounded.

Theseus groaned and shook his head.

"It's not like that-" he started, but was cut off when one of his brother's aurors came in, panicked and rushing.

"Word on the reconnaissance team?"

The young auror seemed to come to his senses, drew himself up and locked his hands behind his back.

"Sir, there is word _from_ them," he said, addressing Theseus with reverence.

"Ease up, Winterbourne, and speak plainly."

Auror Winterbourne relaxed and mentioned that a patronus from the reconnaissance team had arrived, confirming that the location and the situation of the Muggle village that Grindelwald seized remains unchanged.

"Except, his supporters seemed to have increased in number. The reconnaissance team is trying to find out how they could have entered with anti-Apparition charms in place."

Theseus knitted his brow.

"The agreement was they were to return within twelve hours. It's been _fourteen_. Percival must have been over-eager."

Newt's stomach dropped. _Tina_ was part of the reconnaissance team.

"Shall I inform Auror Chevalier that we'll need to form an extraction team?"

"She is most likely doing just that now. Please let her know that I will be joining and I request that she stay to head the remaining members of the taskforce in my stead."

The young auror exited after a brief nod. Theseus readied his wand and donned his coat in silence, until Newt spoke up.

"I am going with you," he said, standing.

"Of course you are," Theseus answered, not missing a beat, "but I'm still debating, in my mind, if that's advisable."

He felt himself prickle a bit in anger.

" _Tina_ might be in danger. Furthermore, the dragon-"

"Can be handled by the French Beast Division," Theseus finished, finally looking at him, "while Goldstein is perfectly able to take care of herself."

"As I recall, you summoned me here because you _believed_ that I have the capacity to assist in the war effort, Theseus," he said, indignantly.

"I am not questioning your competence, brother, only your loyalty. _Don't_ look at me like that. That woman addles your brains. She admitted to being Grindelwald's follower and _you told her you would help her._ "

Newt recognizes that his brother's frustration with him in this was at least as deep as his issues with Leta. He decides not to engage, even though his anger has been heightened by the urgency of the situation, but to clarify.

"She needs my help, Theseus, but not in the way that she thinks."


End file.
